


Wired For Action

by Lenore



Category: Smallville
Genre: Dubious Consent, Eavesdropping, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda for Legacy. Clark is really pissed, and it leads to more than just a little shirt ripping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wired For Action

Lex could never quite decide when he'd gotten on the wrong side of chance. Sometimes he suspected it was in those days and weeks leading up to his unfortunate stint in Belle Reve, during the time he couldn't remember, some forgotten event that had set in motion a downward spiral of bad luck. Other times, he felt it went all the way back to his father's decision to banish him to Smallville, because, really, what had ever gone right for him since he'd arrived in this one-horse town? Often enough, though, he had the sinking feeling that his hapless tango with ill fortune had begun the day he was born and wasn't going to end until he shuffled off this mortal coil.

So it really was just his luck that spying for the feds could go so wrong for him, in such a completely unforeseen way. It had seemed like a simple enough decision when Lex had agreed to it. He could go down for his father's crimes, or he could help the FBI bring Lionel to justice. It was all a matter of survival, and if he hadn't exactly liked the idea of wearing a wire, of letting strangers in bad suits listen in on his most private conversations, he did vastly prefer it to spending the next five to twenty years trying to avoid the prison shower.

How could he ever have guessed that Clark would end up getting dragged into this whole nightmarish mess?

He'd probably just made it worse, too, confronting the agent in charge, demanding he stay away from Clark and his family, making him even more suspicious that they had something to do with his father's illegal activities. He sighed tiredly as he hit the unlock button on his key chain. His luck had to improve soon, right?

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The voice in the darkness made him whirl around. To say that he was surprised to see Clark standing there was an understatement of the highest magnitude.

Clark marched over to him and got in his face. "Did you send them after me?" he demanded angrily.

If not for his years of experience dealing with Lionel, Lex would not have been able to respond so coolly. "Who?" he asked.

Clark's face turned red, and he crowded closer. "You know who!"

Then Clark's hands were on him, and it was like something out of a misshapen dream, the kind where gravity stopped working and anything could happen. Clark grabbed at his shirt, wild fingers digging into his shoulders, and there was the loud sound of rending fabric and cool air on his chest.

Clark glared at the microphone stuck to his chest. "How could you do that, Lex?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with you, Clark," he tried to sound calm. "My father set me up to take the fall for what happened at the lab. So I made a deal with the feds. It was the only way I could stay out of jail."

"And you didn't care who you sacrificed in the process."

"That's not true! I told them to stay away from you, that you had nothing to do with any of this."

"Then why did we have a whole army of agents swarming over the farm, tearing up the place, looking for—" His jaw tightened. "Who knows what?"

Lex shook his head. "I don't know, Clark. It wasn't supposed to be this way. I didn't think—"

Clark shoved him back against the car door, and the impact knocked the breath of him, more out of surprise than anything else. Despite everything he knew about Clark, it had never occurred to him to be afraid.

"You didn't think, Lex? Or you just didn't care?"

"Clark, you have to believe me—" He had that tight feeling in his throat that he always got just before a situation totally careened out of control.

"How'd you like to have your privacy invaded? To be violated like that? Maybe I should show you what it's like." Clark was on him again then, big hands pulling at his shirt, his pants, tearing his clothes open. "How does it feel being exposed, Lex? Not too good, huh?"

Lex was shaking, and it was hard to pin down the exact cause, whether chill from the cool night air or simple rage or some complicated mix of shock and humiliation and desire.

"What do you want, Clark?"

"I want you to fix this mess," he said, rather cryptically.

He grabbed Lex roughly by the arm, opened the door and pushed him across the seat to the passenger side. Got in after him, put the car in gear and took off with an impatient squeal of the tires.

"What—"

Clark put a finger to his lips.

"But—"

"Shut up!" Clark hissed in his ear and refused to say another word.

It became clear soon enough where they were headed as Clark turned down the road toward the mansion. He parked in the drive, went around and pulled Lex from the car. The prospect of being hauled half-naked into his own home, in front of his staff, by someone who was not a deranged criminal but supposedly his best friend, made Lex dig in his heels in the driveway.

"Don’t do this, Clark," he pleaded.

Clark ignored him and dragged him bodily toward the rarely used side entrance. At least, no one would see them if they went in that way. He manhandled Lex up the stairs and into his bedroom, and pushed him down onto the bed.

Lex stared up at him in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

Clark touched the wire on his chest. "I'm giving you a chance to make this right," he whispered. "So play along."

"What—"

Clark lay down on top of him, and that answered that question, although it did make Lex wonder when the universe had been turned on its ear. Clark pressed his face against Lex's neck and murmured his name in the same breathy voice he used in all of Lex's most interesting dreams.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, baby," Clark muttered thickly, before taking his mouth in a surprisingly dirty kiss.

And Lex began to wonder if perhaps he was having another break with reality.

But it couldn't just be his mind playing tricks on him, he finally decided, because no delusion could possibly feel like this, Clark's hot breath on his skin, restless fingers worrying his nipples, the edge of teeth against his lips with every dizzying kiss, perhaps meant in warning or punishment, but only serving to make Lex even harder than he had been since Clark first tore his clothes.

Clark lined great, sucking kisses over Lex's chest and down his belly. He took Lex's eager cock in his palm, almost possessively, and stroked it. "You're leaking for me," he said. "I like that. I like it a lot."

Lex's porno world and the real world were colliding, and all he could do was stare and wonder what the hell had happened to his sweet, if somewhat duplicitous, farmboy, and moan out loud when Clark did this little tickle-swipe over the head of his cock, a move that by all rights a teenager living in Kansas should not know anything about.

Increasingly desperate noises streamed out of Lex, against his volition, and Clark's smile needled him with its smug triumph.

"Oh, yeah. You want it bad, don't you?" Clark drawled, sounding like every X-rated movie ever made. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to give it to you so good."

Lex did not expect Clark's mouth, so when Clark bent over him, it was like a blackout in his head, all thought, every other sensation obliterated by the shock of hot-wet surrounding his cock. Clark sucked him, not haltingly, not like some amateur getting his first taste, but with confidence and gusto, and Lex got a whole new insight into Clark's lost summer in Metropolis.

He dug his fingers into Clark's shoulders, hard, like he wanted to make Clark really feel him, know just whose cock he was gobbling up. When he came, he was shaking like he might fly apart, screaming random obscenities.

Clark sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Where's the lube?"

Lex lay crumpled on the bed like a day-old flower, weak and wilted. "Don't you think—"

"Or would you rather I just fuck you dry?"

"In the nightstand," he answered promptly.

Clark got it and opened his pants, and Lex could feel his mouth dropping open, because Clark had _a lot_ more going for him than just his beautiful face and Herculean strength. He knelt between Lex's spread thighs and smeared slick stuff on them both.

Apparently, patience was not something Clark had learned in Metropolis, or else he thought a sore ass would help Lex remember his lesson better, because he didn't waste any time on such niceties as opening and stretching him.

"Fuck!" Lex screamed at the first rough thrust.

Clark laughed in a not entirely pleasant way. "Oh, I'm going to fuck you all right."

And he did. He fucked Lex so hard the bed shook and groaned like it was about to collapse, and the sweat ran down Lex's face and stung his eyes, and he kept making these desperate gurgling noises that were really rather embarrassing.

He knew there was a possibility he was going to be incredibly angry at some point when this was all over, but while Clark was inside him, commandeering his ass, lighting up every filament of pleasure in his body, all he could do was dig his heels into Clark's back and beg, "Fuck me, god damn it! Fuck me!"

Clark left bruises when he came, his hands clutching at Lex's hips the way shipwreck survivors grabbed for the last life preserver. Lex had never before found people leaving marks on him during sex remotely a turn on, but people were people and Clark was Clark. And he came so violently he was sure he would still have a headache from it the next day.

It took a while after Clark's orgasm for him to stop shuddering, so long, in fact, that Lex was tempted to ask him if he was okay. Finally, though, Clark seemed to regain himself. He jerked the wire from Lex's chest and hurled it across the room.

"Now they have some explanation for why you're so interested in me," he said. "They think we're fucking. So you just let them go on thinking that."

Lex smiled. "Sure, Clark. But you do realize—" He grabbed Clark by the hair, not gently, and pulled him in for a long, bruising kiss. "It's not just what they think. We _are_ fucking."

Clark turned a delightfully vivid shade of red at that, and Lex was pleased to see that Clark's sexual adventures in the big city had not taken the blushing farmboy completely out of him.

"Um. I—you mean you—" Clark stuttered, as if completely taken aback that Lex might actually agree to do this again.

Lex tangled his fingers in Clark's hair, rubbed at the back of his neck reassuringly, until Clark finally yielded and presented his lips to be kissed. There was nothing scalding or urgent this time, just light brushes of their lips together. Clark settled beside him on the bed, and Lex held his face gently in his hands as he explored him at his leisure.

At last, he pressed a kiss to Clark's forehead. "You'd better go. You're parents are going to be worried."

Clark nodded and got up, straightened his clothes. "Um." He shifted his weight awkwardly.

Lex smiled. "See you tomorrow?"

Clark blushed in a pleased way. "Yeah."

At the door, he stopped and turned for one last look, and Lex made it worth his while, stretching lazily on the bed, letting his thighs fall open, wanting Clark to carry with him for the rest of his life this picture of him, naked and willing. Clark swallowed hard and had the "oh, shit!" expression of someone who was pretty certain he'd just gotten in way over his head, mixed with the horny enthusiasm of a teenaged boy who realized he was going to get laid again very soon.

When he was gone, Lex smiled up at the ceiling. All in all, it had not been a bad night. Clark had made his point. Lex had gotten off the hook and was, so far at least, willing to overlook the indignities he'd suffered in the process. They were both significantly less sexually frustrated than they had been only hours earlier. And if things continued to go right, Clark would never have to know that the microphone had been off the entire time they'd been together.

Maybe his luck was finally starting to change.


End file.
